


Out of the Cauldron and Into the Fire

by Murder_Kitten



Series: From Ashes to Embers [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Depression, Drinking, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Halloween, Mentioned Harry Potter, Mentioned Remus Lupin, Mentioned Sirius Black, Post-Sirius Black in Azkaban, Severus Snape-centric, With A Twist
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-08
Updated: 2020-10-08
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:54:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26893267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Murder_Kitten/pseuds/Murder_Kitten
Summary: Former Death Eater Severus Snape planned on marking the twelfth Halloween after Lily Evan's death in the same way as the first eleven occasions - with drinking, depression and an unhealthy dose of regret. But the spirits of Halloween Night may have other plans...OneShot. Complete.
Relationships: Lily Evans Potter & Severus Snape
Series: From Ashes to Embers [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1998259
Comments: 26
Kudos: 18
Collections: Knockturn Tricks or Diagon Treats





	Out of the Cauldron and Into the Fire

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [KnockturnTricksOrDiagonTreats](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/KnockturnTricksOrDiagonTreats) collection. 



> **Prompt:**  
>  Trick: Steaming Cauldron
> 
> Disclaimer: the characters do not belong to me but are the property of J.K.R and Warner Bros. No copyright infringement is intended. I make no profit from these works. All stories are for fun and entertainment only.
> 
> I welcome reviews/comments of people who enjoy my works.
> 
> Thank you for taking the time to read. I hope you enjoy it.

Severus Snape looked over the line of bubbling cauldrons with a contented sigh. This, right here, was the closest he could find to a happy place these days. Happy. It was an odd word, foolishly sentimental. It wasn’t a word Severus felt applied to himself. Happiness seemed to belong to a past version of himself, almost a past life. And even that life had been more full of errors and abuse than happiness. There had been fleeting glimpses of sunshine at times, before the gathering storms of war and hate had eclipsed those transient gleams of happiness forever. No, the closest he got to happiness these days was a sense of purpose and fulfilment. He was making the world a better place for _her_. Not just as a spy or a double agent, but this, here, what he was spending his Saturday afternoon doing, had a purpose. 

He was doing his biannual brewing today. A third of the potions he was making would be stored in the hospital wing for Madam Pomfrey’s use. Another third would go to St Mungo’s to help replenish their stocks. And the final third would go to an old friend’s store in Knockturn Alley, where those who lacked ingredients, money and the required brewing mastery could purchase potions at a fraction of the cost of a more reputable Diagon Alley store. Severus never took a knut of the profits for himself.He had no interest in parading about like some sort of humanitarian. No, if the years had taught him anything, it was that true skill didn’t need to be announced to a room. There was a quiet dignity in humility and anonymity; both qualities Severus prized. 

The solitude in potion brewing and the methodical, precise nature of it brought him a peace and a comfort that he couldn’t find at other times. Crowds made him anxious, students irritated him with their youthful ineptitude and attention seeking, and Albus … Albus infuriated him with his passivity. The only person Severus found tolerable these days was Minerva McGonagall. As a person, she was sensible, strict, and didn’t tolerate nonsense; as a cat, perhaps even more so. These were all qualities Severus found admirable in a fellow educator. Minerva too had been hardened by grief and loss. She understood regret and sorrow better than perhaps anyone. Severus didn’t mind her occasional companionship, whether as a human or as a cat. Minerva didn’t feel the need to fill silences with mindless chatter, yet another quality that Severus enjoyed. 

Silence was soothing, and routine a balm to a wounded soul. Severus could find a sense of tranquility in the depths of a cauldron on all days of the year but one. Halloween. The anniversary of Lily’s death and his annual reminder to trust no-one. Trust was a silent murderer, and it had taken his friend and only love from him forever. He could drink this entire cauldronful of Draught of Peace and find not a drop of peace, Severus thought bitterly, finishing the mixture with a wave of his wand. It was the last one, all seven potions now completed and ready for bottling. He would have one of the school elves assist him with the bottling process. He was too tired tonight and it couldn’t be put off another day. Because tomorrow, well, tomorrow was _Halloween._

* * *

“Ab--bledore’s brother… barman. Yes, you ... the beard--goats,” Severus slurred, rapping his knuckles on the counter. “Another,” he requested, indicating his empty glass. 

How many times it had been emptied and refilled this afternoon, he didn’t know. He had lost count hours ago. He just knew that he couldn’t cope with it, with the memory of her, not today, not any day really, but especially not today. Not with Lupin at Hogwarts and Sirius Black on the loose. The Dementors guarding the school entrances had made this already miserable anniversary ten times worse. 

He played absently with the soft silken strands of an old friendship bracelet Lily had once given him. They had been children then, only eleven or twelve years old. _Not children anymore. Not here anymore,_ he thought, swallowing down another glass of firewhiskey along with the painful lump that rose in his throat at the thought of her. It was impossible not to think of her on this day. She had been so young. They all had been. The bracelet was woven from a lock of her own dark red hair, the gold filigree clasps binding it together now dulled with age. How many years had it been? 

He drained his glass and rapped his knuckles on the counter again. “Another.” 

The barman dutifully poured. No questions asked, no concern offered; that was what Severus liked about the Hog’s Head. Students and staff alike rarely ventured into the dull and dirty establishment, so he was guaranteed peace and quiet. The barman would watch, but he would keep pouring. He would pour until Severus drowned. On this, of all days, that was what he wanted, what he craved. To drown, to let the memories and the emotions he buried three-hundred-and-sixty-four days a year to surface with an unrivaled ferocity. To drink until he couldn’t stand, cry until he couldn’t see, to grieve until it overwhelmed him, to let himself break apart, to shatter into a thousand tiny pieces and not put himself back together again. But, of course, he would put himself back together again. Not because he wanted to. Rather because Albus demanded it and Severus was too much indebted to him to refuse.The next morning he would down a phial of Sober Up Potion, sweep all the broken pieces under a billowing black cloak, assume the persona-mask of coldness and contempt and return to what passed for his life, until the next Halloween. 

“Another,” he said distantly, the slosh of the liquid hitting his glass barely registering through his whiskey-soaked brain. 

“Last one. We’re closing,” the barman grunted. 

“What?” Severus said, blinking as he tried to focus on the old man’s face. 

“Ministry curfew,” Aberforth explained with a shrug. “Dementors patrolling the streets after dark now.”

Severus shook his head, trying to think clearly. “Black?” he managed with a sigh. More than fifteen years since Hogwarts and Sirius Black was still ruining his life. Damn him. “I’ll be fine,” he said, snatching the bottle of firewhiskey off the dusty counter and taking a long swig.

“Reckon you can cast a Patronus in this state?” Aberforth said doubtfully. 

Severus shrugged wearily. “If I can’t, it won’t be your problem, will it?” 

“S’ppose not,” Aberforth replied. “Happy Halloween.”

* * *

Severus stumbled through the oak front doors, ignoring the echoing hum of laughter and chatter emanating from the Great Hall, where the Hogwarts Halloween Feast was in full swing. Instead, he made his way through the darkened corridors to his office, breathing the peaceful quiet in deeply. He scowled on noticing the line of still-full cauldrons, the house elf he had engaged to bottle the potions seeming to have wandered off, leaving the job undone. 

Something green was floating on the surface of the nearest potion and Severus peered at it in confusion. Then he noted similar green things floating on the surface of each of the potions. Apples. What in the name of Merlin? Severus did a quick cauldron count - eight. There had only been seven when he had left for the Hog’s Head, he was sure of it. So, where had the extra cauldron come from? And for that matter, where had the apples come from? Only a fool would try apple bobbing in these cauldrons; more than one of these potions was toxic, and potentially lethal. 

And speaking of fools… 

“Trick or treat?” a voice cried loudly, the unexpected noise disorienting Severus as he twisted wildly around, searching for whoever had invaded the sanctity of his private office. 

“Get out!” Severus exclaimed furiously, spotting the ghostly troublemaker lurking perilously close to a full cauldron.

“Trick?” Peeves asked with a wicked grin. “Or treat?” he added, his dark eyes sparkling with mischief. 

“Get _out!_ ” Severus spat. “Or I'll summon the Bloody Baron! Are you responsible for this?” he demanded, indicating the apples still bobbing on the surface of the potions. 

“I think Mister Potions Master said: trick. Or am I hearing things?” Peeves said, pretending to clean out his ears. “I’m positive that’s what he said,” Peeves decided with a grin. 

“Try a tricksy steaming cauldron, Professor!” Peeves exclaimed, gleefully overturning cauldron after cauldron. Severus’s carefully brewed potions flooded the floor in a mixture of colours - red, turquoise blue, sunshine yellow, molten gold, green, orange, laurel green, and atomic tangerine orange, more orange than Severus had ever seen in his career, spreading across the pristine floors of his office: a multiplying monster of a Pompion Potion Severus guessed, trying and failing to vanish the mixture as Peeves fled the scene in hoots of laughter. 

Severus cursed as Lily’s treasured bracelet, woven of her dark red hair, went sailing into the mess of potions, soon hidden from sight, as the combined magical draughts bubbled and hissed menacingly, the thick fumes filling the air; no spell Severus knew was able to vanish or diminish the smoke now filling the room. He made to chase after Peeves, but slipped on one of the apples the poltergeist had filled his cauldrons with, and fell, dropping his wand. Cursing the rotten day and the even more rotten prankster, Severus gave up, fleeing to the safety of his warded private chambers, where he collapsed onto his bed, tired, exhausted, and too drunk to care anymore, allowing an uneasy sleep to claim him. 

* * *

Severus woke abruptly, a droning voice muttering in his ear. Turning his head slowly and brushing his hair out of his face, he squinted at the silvery form of a phoenix Patronus. 

_Black … Gryffindor Tower … Search and then report to the Great Hall…_

Severus registered Dumbledore's instructions dimly, then groaned and rolled over. It felt like mere minutes since he had collapsed on his bed. He sat up grudgingly, sweeping the hair out of his eyes, before rummaging through his bedside table for a Sober Up Potion. Finding the tiny phial, he downed it in one long gulp, straightening his robes and hair in front of the long mirror on the back of the door. It was his personal rule that Professor Severus Snape should always look professional and presentable at all times. Someone needed to set an example of proper dress and decorum for the students of Hogwarts. It certainly wasn't going to be Dumbledore. His robes were ridiculous. 

Severus pulled open the door, having temporarily forgotten the mess he and Peeves had left in his Potions Lab the previous night. But it wasn't the mess that drew his eye and caused his heart to stop in his chest, rendering him almost speechless. 

It was an all too familiar head of long, dark red hair, with a thin braid and gold filigree clasps glinting in the lamplight overhead. The woman the braid belonged to was sitting cross-legged and naked in the middle of the potion-stained floor, twirling Severus's wand through her delicate fingers. She looked up at him, her vivid green eyes searching his face with a mixture of curiosity and confusion. 

"Sev," she said softly. 

Severus felt his breath catch in his throat, hot tears falling from his eyes before he could stop them. _Impossible,_ his brain screamed at him. _I don't care,_ his heart reminded him, thudding painfully in his chest as he gently took the wand from her hands, transfiguring his cloak into a long black dress that Lily slipped over her head. It was a conservative dress, long-sleeved and fitted with an abundance of buttons, but she didn't complain, just studied her childhood friend's face. He was older than she remembered; tired, careworn, and reeking of whiskey. 

"You look like shit, Sev," she said with a slow smile, seeming to regret that he'd taken his wand off her before she could hex him. 

He nodded, the first real smile he'd worn in years slowly spreading across his face. He'd forgotten she used to do that; a proper miss one minute, and swearing like a sailor the next. 

"It's been a long time, _Lily,"_ he said, his voice cracking. 

"Well, I should think so. I've hardly spoken to you since the end of fifth year," Lily reminded him. 

"No, I mean--" Severus paused. Did she really not remember? "It's been twelve years, Lily."

"Since what?" Lily said slowly. 

"Since you-- you _died,_ " Severus said, the memory of holding her lifeless body still fresh in his mind. "Halloween, 1981." 

Lily frowned, looking as though she was thinking hard. "And this is…?" 

"1993." Severus replied.

"No, I-- I remember that night. Sort of," Lily said, fear flashing across her face for a moment. "What happened to Harry? James? Did Voldemort--?"

"Harry survived, but James died. I'm sorry," he added quickly, seeing the pain in her eyes. 

"No, you're not," Lily said immediately. 

"No," Severus admitted. "I wasn't a good friend to you, Lily. But at least I never betrayed you like Potter's friends." 

"Peter, you mean," Lily said, her eyes narrowing at the thought of the traitorous rat. 

"No, _Black,"_ Severus said with concern. Had her return to the natural world addled her brain? "Black was your Secret Keeper." 

"What? No, no, no, no," Lily murmured anxiously. "Peter was. We switched Secret Keepers at the last minute, Sev. Sirius was being hunted by Death Eaters, by his cousins, by Voldemort himself. We knew it was a matter of time before he was-- before he got himself killed. What happened to Sirius? He's not--" 

"He's alive," Severus assured her. 

"What happened to Sirius, Sev?" Lily demanded, her eyes flashing. 

"I didn't know, I swear it. If I had known he was innocent--" 

"You would have let him rot anyway," Lily said accusingly. "What happened?" 

"He was in Azkaban for twelve years. He's escaped though," Severus muttered, hoping that detail mattered. "Where are you going?" he asked, as Lily leapt to her feet. 

"I'm _going_ to find Sirius. Merlin knows what shape he's in after twelve years in that hell-hole. I'm going to help him. I'll clear his name, get him Healers, whatever it takes," she said fiercely. "And then you will take me to _Harry_. I assume he's here in the castle?" 

"Yes," Severus admitted. "He's in _Gryffindor_ of course," he said sourly. 

"As if my son would be anything else," Lily said proudly. "A Chaser?" 

"Seeker," Severus supplied grudgingly. 

"Huh," Lily said thoughtfully. 

"What?" Severus asked. 

"Nothing, I owe Remus ten Galleons," Lily grinned. "I was sure he would be a Chaser like James." 

"Shall we?" Severus asked, holding the door open for her. 

"You're coming?" Lily said, surprised. 

"Always," Severus said with a faint smile. He looked over the line of empty cauldrons with a contented sigh. It had taken twelve years, but something good had finally come of Halloween… 


End file.
